


Loving You From A To Z

by ZippyZapmeister



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Alphabet, Drabble Collection, F/M, Fluff, for the rest they're happy and living life, i hate the letter x now its a bitch ass letter and i want it to die, like 2 angsty drabbles that's it i swear, who let that letter exist send them to the principal's office and have them expelled!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-28 14:05:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7643605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZippyZapmeister/pseuds/ZippyZapmeister
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of 26 drabbles, featuring Mitama and Dwyer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Loving You From A To Z

**Author's Note:**

> when i pasted this from google docs it showed up with extra spaces between lines and tbh it's 21 pages worth of words i did not feel like going back and deleting the extra space please shoot me
> 
> i hate the letter X i hate the letter X i hate i hate i hate i hate i ha

**A is for apathy.**

 

You turned out alright. It seemed as if you always did. But you were dumb for risking your life like that anyway. That soldier died and you knew he was a goner before he got there. It was a waste of resources and energy, but most of all, you scared the hell out of me.

 

Maybe you feel like your mom doesn’t care. Maybe you feel like your dad doesn’t care. But Dwyer, you idiot,  _ I _ care. I care if something happens to you.

 

I’m not sure if this is apathy or selflessness, but I want it to stop.

  
  


**B is for bloom.**

 

We found a small cove tucked away on the outskirts of town, and you instantly thought it would be a good hideaway. It wouldn’t be long before your dad found it, but we were used to finding temporary hiding spots where we could kiss, chat, and most importantly, sleep.

 

At the mouth of the cove, dandelions grew. I was content to sit and watch them waver gently in the wind, but you insisted on snatching them up from their peaceful, earthy home and blowing them away with all you had. It was only after three that you gave up.

 

“You have to blow all of the seeds off in one breath for the wish to come true,” you said, frustrated. No matter how hard you blew, at least half of it was still left.

 

“Don’t blow hard. It doesn’t take much to get them off. Blow gently and distribute your breath evenly,” I suggested. Then, I remembered. “Besides, my caretakers in my realm told me that the legend goes, you have to just blow all of the seeds off and wait for them to go to the sun and come back. It has nothing to do with-”

 

“You learned it wrong.”

 

I didn’t see a use in arguing with you. You were always right, according to...well, you. You took two more dandelions and we went deeper into the cove, sitting down with our backs against the cool stone wall. 

 

Curious, I said, “What were you wishing for, anyway, Mitama?”

 

“Some rainy weather. It’s inspiring,” you said, your eyes twinkling. They were stars, after all. I was disappointed with your response. I thought it would be something like us being together forever or marriage or something. I told you my thoughts on a whim, then immediately regretted it out of embarrassment. You frowned and said, “Why waste a perfectly good wish on that? You’re stuck with me, Dwyer.”

 

How twisted am I that I found that comforting?

  
  


**C is for cat.**

 

You showed up at my bedroom door an hour later than usual. Along with the tea that you always brought me, you also had a cat hot on your heels.  _ A friendly feline...attached to my sweet Dwyer...understandable. _

 

“I had to sneak him some milk,” you explained hastily, thrusting the tea towards me. “Help me figure out what to do with him...her...it.”

 

“Just lift her up and see if she’s really a her,” I said. I grabbed the tray and gestured to the cat with my foot. It ducked behind you, hissing, and I scowled.  _ Not so friendly, I see. It was just a little wave of my foot! _

 

You picked the cat up and held it under what I assumed were its armpits. Its spine was facing you, so I had to do the examination. It was wiggling in an attempt to see you. “Well? What’s the verdict? Without the theatrics...” Your lazy slur was so comforting to me in ways that I couldn’t understand.

 

“Looks as if she’s a female,” I said, awkwardly scratching the cat’s belly. “Where did you get her from?”

 

“I went outside after I heard some meowing from outside of the kitchen. I gave her milk and some old scraps and she’s been following me around ever since.”

 

I rolled my eyes. “She’s expecting more.”

 

Maybe I was wrong, though. Once you set the cat down, she was purring and rubbing against you as if you were her best friend.

 

_ Learn your boundaries...one female reigns over him...that woman is me! _

  
  


**D is for daydream.**

 

When you didn’t respond to me calling your name, I didn’t get too worried. You probably weren’t on our planet at that moment. You were daydreaming again.

 

I leaned back against the patch of grass we were laying on, and stared up at the sky. I was trying to do what you were doing, but my mind just couldn’t think of anything to daydream about.

 

After a few seconds, I shook you out of your stupor and said, “Teach me how to daydream.”

 

“You’re not a daydreamer, Dwyer. You’re a  _ doer _ . Even if you  _ are _ lazy. When you think something up, you do it.” She was right. As much as I hated extra work, when I wanted something done, I did it. If I was daydreaming something, then I would make it exist with sheer will. “Try daydreaming of something impossible. Then your mind can do nothing but imagine it.”

 

You had a good idea. However, that’s where it stopped. What was impossible that I could think of? Finally, I said, “How about you having two heads?”

 

“Why  _ me _ ?! You should have two heads!”

 

“You talk more than me. One head could recite poetry and one head could yell at your dad for being annoying,” I reasoned. I laid back and tuned your complaining out, imagining the two-headed Mitama thoroughly. Would you eat twice as much or twice as fast?

 

Daydreaming was kind of fun.

 

**E is for eccentric. E is also for electric.**

 

You knew that I would do just about anything to get inspiration for a poem or work of art. It was so easy for me to come up with haikus off of the top of my head, but when I wanted to truly make something amazing, I needed a starting point.

 

It was surely after midnight when I grabbed a candle and tiptoed into your room. It was thundering outside, and raining cats and dogs. I had never seen it before in the nighttime, and...well, it looked the same. Just with you sleeping in your bed.

 

You looked so different, sleeping in a bed, from when you took naps with me. Usually you have your arms folded behind your head lazily, and you had a slight pout on your face. In your bed, your lips were parted and and you were face down, with your head turned to the side so that you could breathe (thank the gods). You had the cover up to your chin. Your hair was already tousled. You had bad bedhead like your mother, but you put less effort into fixing it up. That’s not to say that she put in a lot.

 

You looked so cute sleeping that I almost didn’t want to wake you up.

 

...almost.

 

“Hey, Dwyer,” I hissed. I went over to your bed, setting down the candle, my tablet, and my quill. I shook you vehemently, but you still didn’t wake up. “Get up. C’mon, get up before the storm passes!”

 

For a second my face turned pale because I thought you were dead, but then you said, “Mitama...you’re in my room…” Your eyes were still shut.

 

“Yes. I’m in your room.”

 

“At night…”

 

“Yes! Dwyer, wake up!”

 

“You’re in my room at night…” Then, your eyes shot open. “You’re in my room at night! Mitama, get out!” 

 

You pulled the cover over your head, and I tore it off of the bed. That was a grave mistake. Or maybe not. Staring down at what I had unveiled, I sighed deeply. “You sleep in the nude.”

 

You desperately covered yourself up as the roar of thunder slightly shook the ground. You had sat up, and the way you had rearranged the covers had it so that it went up to your hips. You didn’t seem too happy about your chest being bared. I couldn’t see it because you had your knees pulled to your chest, though. I wanted to tell you that I was going to see your torso (and much more) eventually, but you said, “What do you want?! What’s the emergency?! It better be an emergency…”

 

“I want to go out into the storm to get inspiration for a-”

 

“Oh, yes, this is definitely an emergency.  _ You’re losing your mind _ !” 

 

“Dwyer! Come on! I want to just go out for a second. We might not even get wet,” I said, lying swiftly. Of course we would get wet! Even if it was just a little.  _ I’d rather be soaked, with golden words in my hands, than dry and speechless! _

 

“...oh my gods. You have problems,” you said, burying your face in your hands. I leaned in a little. I hadn’t gotten an answer! “Give me a couple of minutes to get dressed. We’re only going out for a second. I can’t believe  _ you’re _ losing sleep for this!”

 

“The thunder keeps me awake, anyway. Now, hurry up, the storm’s gonna pass soon.”

 

Within minutes, you were dressed, looking absolutely miffed. That’s nothing new, so we just departed. We snuck out into the castle gardens, too afraid of going out of the front. We couldn’t actually leave the castle grounds through the gardens, but we were still outside, at least.

 

The rain was slowing, so I stepped out without hesitation. You groaned and stepped out with me. Everything felt so alive. Scents popped out at me, and I immediately started scribbling down lines about the scenery and the feel of the rain on my skin, mumbling the lines I wrote down. When I glanced up at you, you were looking at me, and smiling tiredly.

 

I shielded my tablet from your eyes; I didn’t want you to see my next poem. It was about your lips, and then one about your hair, and then your eyes...you definitely would’ve complained about me being able to write about that  _ indoors _ , but the truth is, I couldn’t. There was something about you, right then, standing there with me in the rain, that struck me.

 

You jumped a couple of feet into the air when lightning lit up the sky, but I hardly flinched. Instead, I moved on to writing about the crackling sound right before the deafening thud, my tablet being instantly filled with all manners of words.

 

“Mitama,” you said, suddenly. “Shouldn’t we…”

 

“Shouldn’t we…?”

 

“K-kiss? I mean, Caeldori told me that kissing in the rain-”

 

I rolled my eyes. Not too long ago, I off-handedly mentioned that you weren’t lovey-dovey and mind-numbingly cheesy. It was a compliment, really. Guys like that tend to be clingy. However, you took it in a bad way, and immediately ran to Caeldori for love advice. Even after I cleared up my intentions behind the statement, you had still been trying out the romantic thing.

 

“Dwyer, why does it make a difference where we kiss?”

 

“I don’t get it myself,” you admitted. I “tsk”ed in irritation, tucking my tablet away in my cloak and watching the rain fall. You continued, “Maybe because it’s so...calming.”

 

I tapped my foot impatiently. “How does ‘calm’ turn into ‘kissing’?”

 

“Ugh. Never mi-”

 

I cut you off. Even though I adored your voice, I adored your delicious lips even more. When I pulled away, you looked embarrassed. You were even  _ shaking _ . “Really? You asked for that! Don’t look so nervous.”

 

“No, it’s just...I’m getting cold,” you admitted, rubbing your arms. It was getting chilly. And we were getting quite damp.

 

“Alright, you big baby. Let’s go back to bed,” I said, taking your hand. Somehow, it was still warm.

  
  


**F is for falsified.**

 

“Which one is yours?”

 

“Mitama. I want your  _ opinion _ . Your  _ real _ opinion.”

 

You gave me an angry and slightly worried look. All I wanted was for you to tell me which tea sample was better, but you refused to tell me until I told you which one was mine. You usually told me your unbridled opinion, but we both knew that the competition between my father and I had been heating up, and I was afraid of being a disappointment.

 

I knew you wanted to make me happy, but I expected your honest opinion when I set down two cups of tea in front of you; one from me, and one from my father. We both made new blends so that you wouldn’t recognize something we had made previously.

 

“I...I guess this one,” you said flatly, pointing to the cup you had drank from last. 

 

“Why?” I asked forcefully.

 

“Oh, wait, maybe it’s the other-”

 

“Mitama.  _ Please _ . Just tell me why you liked the first one you pointed to. Or did you guess because you wanted to pick mine?”

 

You set your elbows on the table and your chin in your hands. You met my eye, and I looked away. Part of me wanted to hear your biased choice, but I wanted to improve, no matter how much it would hurt to know that I had been bested. The first one you pointed to was indeed mine, but I needed to know that you weren’t just  _ picking _ .

 

“...my final answer is the first one,” you finally said. Before I could ask why, you said, “Because...it...I just like it, okay?! The other one’s good, too, but it’s just not…”

 

“ _ You _ can’t find the words to describe something? You’re faking it, Mitama. Just tell the-”

 

“The one I pointed to, as soon as I smelled it, I felt so warm. I mean, I know it’s hot tea, but I felt something different. And when it hit my tongue, I instantly was kind of mesmerized. I mean, the taste, it was-it-it-”

 

I leaned in.

 

“It reminded me of you. So I liked it. That’s all. It just made me think of you.”

 

I was thoroughly confused. That wasn’t possible. It made no sense. “Did you see us make the tea? How did you know it was mine?”

 

You snapped, “Do you think I’m dishonest or something? If I had known which tea was yours and which was Jakob’s, I would have said so! Gods, Dwyer, the tea is good, and I like it! Let’s just leave it at that...”

 

You were getting way too defensive. Then, I realized that you were blushing, and covering your face with one hand. You were seriously too shy to just tell me that the tea reminded you of me? I would admit that kind of thing to you in a heartbeat, you know. I just didn’t get why it reminded me of you.

 

That didn’t matter, though. You were biased. You only liked the tea because it reminded you of me. I huffed, “And what if you hated my guts? Then which would you have preferred?”

 

“If I hated your guts, then I would have thrown the tea in your face when you brought it to me.” You stalked off, probably to take a nap. Curious, I took a sip of the tea I had made; it just tasted like tea to me.

  
  


**G is for gifted.**

 

It didn’t make any sense at all, how good you were at everything. I’m not ashamed to say that you look pretty plain on the outside. But you know how to do so much. Sometimes I’m jealous, but other times I’m just wondering how I ended up with someone so perfect.

 

Seriously. How did you tame Sophie’s demonic steed in two minutes? You’re just so good at things. It sucks because you don’t even see it.

  
  


**H is for hair.**

 

I knocked on your door on a Sunday morning, and there you were in all your glory. Your hair was, if I had to pick a word, naked. All of your ribbons were on your bed, and you looked thoroughly frustrated.

 

“Let’s get breakfast,” I said, trying not to stare. I had never seen your hair like that, without all of the ties and things. It was silky and the way little wisps brushed across your cheeks made me think it could tickle you.

 

I didn’t realize I was touching it until you snapped, “If you’re going to touch it, then at least help me do it up. My hands are so sore from arm-wrestling with stupid Shiro yesterday.”

 

“Why did you do it anyway?”

 

“A misogynist, challenging me to battle? How could I refuse?” I didn’t even have to count the syllables to know that it was a haiku. I felt as if the five-seven-five number structure dictated your life.

 

“I don’t think he was hinting at misogyny by saying that girls are bad at arm-wrestling,” I said slowly, treading lightly. “But...girls do have...gentler...muscle structures?”

 

You scowled and whirled on your heels, beckoning me as you sat on your bed. I walked over and sat behind you. I thought about spreading my legs out and having you between them, but considering the extra equipment between my legs and the inevitable damage that you’d do to my crotch, I decided against it.

 

I just got on my knees, and that put me at a height that was a bit taller than you. I pulled your hair back, considering putting it in a ponytail and then leaving it. However, I cleared my throat, furrowed my brow in concentration, then gathered your hair on the top of your head, grabbing the two longest ribbons.

 

You didn’t object; in fact, you were sleeping. I worked quickly but lightly, trying not to wake you up. When I was done, you had two large buns on either side of your head. The two knots took on the form of huge bows, and I was pretty sure you would kill me when you saw it. You looked ridiculous.

 

Tapping your shoulder, I murmured, “Wake up. I’m done.” I quickly swept the extra ribbons under your pillow, then pulled you to your feet. You looked bummed at me waking you up, but you got up nonetheless. “Ready for breakfast?”

 

“Let’s get food and then go to bed,” you grumbled, putting on your sandals. I watched you, smiling disarmingly. You looked up at me, suddenly alert. “What?”

 

“Nothing. It’s just...your hair looks really nice.”

 

“It better.”

  
  


**I is for insects.**

 

“Don’t...move.” 

 

Your slow, calm voice stirred me. My eyes opened, and I stared at you sleepily. I sighed in irritation at being woken from my slumber, and you shook your head quickly, mouthing for me to stay still. I began shaking in fear. Why were you asking me to stay still? What happened while I was asleep?

 

You were straddling me, and your hand was slowly stretching out towards my ear. Then, I heard what sounded like a cross between a  _ crunch _ and a  _ squish _ . You made a disgusted noise and then pulled a napkin out of your pocket, wiping your hand.

 

“A bee almost got you,” you explained, wiping my ear next. Nothing got on it, but you were thorough.

 

“Mm,” I hummed in amusement. “This is why I keep you around, Dwyer.”

 

“Never mind the fact that you love me.”

 

“No, no, never mind that…”

  
  


**J is for jealousy.**

 

“Oh. Someone brought you candies. I...wonder... _ who _ ,” I said. It was in vain; you seemed to be ignoring me. Part of me knew I was exaggerating, but what the hell? Asugi was always bringing you things, always trying to read your poems and comment on them. Who was  _ he _ to try and get so close to you?

 

You didn’t seem to have a problem. Candy was a good “pre-nap snack”, so you took your gifts and willingly left Asugi in the dark about how much you didn’t want to date him. One time you said “he smells like sickeningly sweet frosting and annoyances”. I’m not sure what annoyances smell like, but he  _ does _ smell sweet.

 

After you finished eating your taffy, you sighed wistfully and replied, “See? Now you know how  _ I _ feel. That cat that was always following you around kept bringing you dead creatures and such. I felt like she was trying to one-up me! Still sad that she kicked the bucket-”

 

“What?! You were jealous of a  _ cat _ ?! That’s completely different!”

 

“A  _ female  _ cat, Dwyer. But, besides that, Asugi isn’t on my radar. Not up to par with my standards,” you said, waving your hand dismissively. “Cranky and forlorn-”

 

“Before you launch into a haiku, I’m  _ not _ cranky and forlorn,” I reminded, snatching one of your candies and munching it. I felt like I had won somehow by eating it. I didn’t even really enjoy the taste. 

 

You frowned at me. “Of course you are. That’s why I like you. I’m cranky and forlorn, too. ‘Opposites attract’ isn’t real. If it was, then Asugi and I would’ve had babies now. Imagine that, our pretty ginger babies…”

 

I shoved a lollipop in your mouth and turned away.

  
  


**K is for kindness.**

 

“Ah, Dwyer...you’re so good to me...unlike your meanie of a father…”

 

“Ha! ‘Meanie’? Trust me, Setsuna, you haven’t seen the half of it.”

 

I snorted as we picked thorns and leaves off of my mother, who had fallen into a pit for the third time in the past two days. You were searching for herbs to use in your tea, when you found her happily lounging in a hole. Thank the gods that didn’t happen when she was pregnant with me.

 

“Y’know,” you said suddenly, playing with a twig, “I wouldn’t have gone to all the trouble of saving you if it wasn’t for Mitama. I only did it because she would have wanted me to.”

 

Mother grinned. “I’m so glad you two are so in love!”

 

“That’s not what I...I meant…” You sighed as my mother tousled your hair. “I’m glad, too.”

  
  


**L is for licking.**

 

“So? How do the cookies taste?”

 

You seemed to enjoy them. You were happily munching on the frosted cookies that I had prepared for you, so it seemed as if you thought they were pretty good.

 

Nodding in response, you grabbed another one as you swallowed the one you were currently shoving down your throat. Before you began to demolish that one, too, you said, “I never considered vanilla frosting on ginger cookies. It’s not bad!”

 

A small clump of vanilla frosting rested on your cheek, and I frowned. You really were a child, you know. Cranky, always napping... _ and _ I had to clean you up? Not like I minded. I grabbed a napkin and chuckled, “You’ve got a little-”

 

“Dwyer! Just lick it,” you barked. I flushed, then set the napkin down. Your lips were cocked in a little smirk, and you were waving me over urgently. I leaned in and stuck my tongue out; I hesitated for a second, then swiped the frosting up quickly. You pouted. “I expected it to be more slow and sensual, but whatever. Now kiss me, and give my frosting back.”

  
  


**M is for mother.**

 

“Can you sing?”

 

I gave your mother, Azura, an incredulous look. “No...my apologies.” I didn’t expect her to come up to me after dinner and open a conversation with  _ that _ line.

 

She seemed taken aback. When she furrowed her brow, she looked just like you. Or maybe I was projecting. “No need to apologize,” she laughed. “I just wanted to attempt to find some common ground. Dwyer talks about you a lot, and...and I’m pretty sure he would kill me if he knew I told you that. Oh well. He does talk about you.”

 

I knew that very well, but it still made me blush. I imagined you complaining about me, but still speaking fondly. “He talks about you a lot, too. He says we’re the most important two women in his life, and sings songs that you taught him.”

 

“Oh? Hm...he rarely sings around me.” Azura looked kind of hurt, but I was quickly comforted when she said, “I think it’s great that he likes you so much. I’ve heard that you’re often inclined to laze about.”

 

_ Could’ve used some better wording, _ I thought, but smiled and nodded in agreement. “That’s true. The world is so fast-paced, after all...so much easier to just sit back…”

 

“You sound a lot like Dwyer...it’s as if you two are kindred spirits. Say, Mitama. Dwyer, Jakob, Shigure and I usually take a walk after dinner. How would you like to come with us this evening? I’m sure Dwyer’d like to have you along.”

 

I blinked hard. Although a walk  _ alone _ with you sounded a  _ lot _ better (especially since your dad was quite critical of me), I grinned and accepted your invitation.

  
  


**N is for nutritious.**

 

“What...is this?”

 

“Carrots. Ever heard of them?”

 

“Gross and watery; I will not touch this garbage. Bring me a cupcake!”

 

The small dish of carrots I had brought you were shoved back into my face, and you returned to your tablet. I wanted to tell you to eat your veggies. I wanted to tell you that picking fresh carrots was no easy task. I wanted to tell you a lot of things, Mitama, but in the end…

 

I hope you enjoyed the cupcake I ended up making you.

  
  


**O is for opportunity.**

 

My palms were sweaty. I could hardly hold on to my pen. You looked so perfect, standing there, watching as the man you just healed walked away. You weren’t facing me, but I could picture your face very clearly.

 

It was just us. We had healed everyone after you insisted upon staying to help me. I’m not afraid to admit that I wanted you there, even if I preferred working alone. But just brushing your shoulder or “accidentally” pushing you made me feel something, something extraordinary.

 

I wanted to tell you. It was just us. It was the perfect time. But when you turned around and smiled at me, making some cocky remark about how I would’ve been out here for another hour if you hadn’t shown up, my heart stopped. I couldn’t say anything. I couldn’t tell you how much I liked the way you spoke slowly and calmly. I couldn’t tell you that I stole your pillow and slept with it that night and every night after, breathing your scent.

 

I definitely couldn’t tell you that I loved you.

 

Instead, I huffed and replied, “Your assistance was neither desired nor required.” I heard you laugh as I walked away.

  
  


**P is for pillow.**

 

Not too long before we started dating, I found you napping under my tree. At least, I thought you were napping. When I looked closer, I saw you burrowing your face in the pillow you extorted from me, deeply inhaling.

 

I just watched you, but it didn’t take long for you to notice me towering over you. You were obviously embarrassed, but you just looked away and said, “Ever heard of privacy,  _ Dwyer _ ?”

 

You weren’t much of a conversationalist.

  
  


**Q is for quilt.**

 

Hoshidan winters weren’t too harsh, but it could get a little chilly. When I suggested that we crawl into my bed and get under my quilt, you bristled.

 

“If it makes you feel better,” I tried, “we could just lay on separate ends. Like, one of us has their head at the top of the bed and the other has their head at the bottom. So if anyone walks in, it won’t be suspicious.”

 

That seemed to convince you. When we got in, I could just barely see your feet peeking out from beneath my quilt. I peeled the quilt back, and realized that you had a hole in your sock. You saw me looking, and said, “What are you, chief of the sock army? Am I going to be dragged to prison?”

 

I brushed my nail over the skin it revealed, and you growled. Or maybe it was a laugh. Either way,  you immediately jerked your feet upwards, curling into yourself. “Didn’t peg you as the type to be ticklish,” I observed.

 

“I’m not ticklish. D-don’t touch my feet, or I’ll get out of the bed…!”

 

“I’m not stopping you from leaving. Sure isn’t as  _ toasty _ anywhere else, I’ll tell you that,” I mumbled. 

 

You sighed, then shifted. I was partly afraid that you were going to leave, but you were just rolling over. You said, “I didn’t think  _ volcanoes _ needed quilts to be ‘toasty’.”

 

“There’s only room for one smartass in this relationship, Dwyer.”

 

“I’m not stopping you from leaving.”

  
  


**R is for rhythm.**

 

After badgering me for a good twenty minutes about how I learned how to dance, you convinced me to teach you. You weren’t bad at it. You had a bit of trouble memorizing the steps, but after a while, you memorized them by making up a little rhyme.

 

Every step was met with a corresponding whisper from your lips. The bounce of your feet was unbelievably peppy, yet graceful and smooth. Most of all, you moved with me, and we were fluid. Perhaps I was imagining it, but I think our hearts were in tune as well. After a couple of minutes, you stopped whispering your rhyme, and dreamily whispered, “Dancing toe to toe, performing a lover’s step...I’m walking on air.”

 

Our dance slowed to a stop as you nuzzled my chest. We stopped moving, and I didn’t have to look down to know you were smiling. “I’m not sure if my mother would have the good kind of heart attack or the bad kind of heart attack if she saw me dancing with a girl,” I said, affectionately kissing the top of your head. You were rarely ever  _ that _ docile, so I decided to take advantage of the situation and shower a little love on you.

 

You smirked and said, “Well? How do I compare? Am I the next Azura, or what?”

 

I rolled my eyes to the ceiling, pretending to debate. You sucked your teeth, then got on tiptoe a little so you could press a kiss to my lips. I declared, “You’re getting there.”

  
  


**S is for speech.**

 

I adored the way you spoke, and I mentioned it quite often. However, after a while, I couldn’t help but wonder why you spoke like that. Your father’s voice was sharp, crisp, commandeering; your mother’s was calm but clear. 

 

You, however, drawled and spoke at your own pace, always sounding slightly on the verge of breaking down completely. You reminded me of my mother in that way (save for the breaking down part, of course). I was curious about it, so one day, while we were chatting over tea, I said, “What’s with the way you speak?”

 

“I just speak like this,” you said, then quickly grabbed your teacup.

 

“You’re lying. You brushed it off too quickly. Just tell me!”

 

Once you set down your cup, you shut your eyes and sighed. “I used to have a really embarrassing stutter. My caretaker said I should try speaking slower, so I did. I just never really  _ stopped _ speaking slowly...so here I am.”

 

You seemed self-conscious, so I blurted out, “I like it. The way you speak.”

 

And I wasn’t lying, either. Keep it nice and slow, so I can cherish every word you say.

  
  


**T is for time.**

 

Azama thought it would be a good idea for me to start waking you up early. So, basically, I was doing his dirty work. The volcano was going to erupt in my face. 

 

Instead of being met with a fiery explosion, you began to rant, somewhere in between sleep and consciousness. You sighed wistfully, then stretched a hand into the air before letting it flop to the bed.

 

“Time,” you started. “Time...it is a feeble thing. It never stops. As much as we wish it could, it never stops. Try catching a pegasus that doesn’t stop. You can’t. How can we continue on in life so hastily, when we can’t just lay back and try to grasp the world around us?”

 

For a second, I really thought about what you’d said. Everything was always  _ going _ . When would anybody truly be at rest, except for death? It had thrown me for a loop...then, I came to my senses. “Was that spiel a ploy to stay in bed longer?”

 

“Ugh. Looks like it didn’t work. Just get out so I can get dressed.” You threw a pillow at me, and I caught it with a grin. You’re welcome, Azama.

  
  


**U is for unity.**

 

You distanced yourself from me sometimes. We saw things that no youth should ever have to see. Occasionally, you got overwhelmed, despite your calm demeanor.

 

I didn’t know what to do when you got like that. You would just shut yourself off, saying nothing but short, blunt sentences. When you started to disengage, I would feel part of myself slipping away too. I wouldn’t know what to say. I would just linger around, hoping that your eyes would stop being glazed over, that you would be  _ there _ .

 

Sometimes it lasted for weeks.

 

During one of your low periods, I approached you in your room. I wasn’t sure what to say, as was uniform during those situations. The silence was tense. I tried to think of what to say as you stared at your feet.

 

You broke the silence.

 

“Mitama...we’re more than just boyfriend and girlfriend. I-I rely on you, more than you can see. We’re both in this army together, but you and I are a team all on our own, and I need you to know that.” Your voice was almost a whisper, and I could tell that you were on the verge of tears.

 

I moved next to you, then realized you were staring at your hands. There’s no telling what kind of wounded people you’ve held with those hands. We both wanted to forget. “We’re a team, Dwyer. I know that just as well as you do. Even if it ends up being me and you against the world.”

 

“Sometimes...it seems like the world is against us,” you said. I could sense the finality in your words, so I said nothing else, simply rubbing your back slowly; even though I was quiet, all I could think was,  _ the world has no chance against a love as strong as ours. _

  
  


**V is for voodoo.**

 

One of the many downsides of Rhajat being your close friend was the interest that you took in all of her creepy hobbies. When Rhajat explained the workings of voodoo, you immediately pulled her out of earshot and began whispering something, to which she responded with a sinister grin.

 

I suppose that’s how you ended up in my room with a doll that had a striking resemblance to me, along with a pin.

 

“I don’t know,” I said immediately, “and I don’t care, unless it will kill me in some way.”

 

“It’s a voodoo doll. Thought it would be fun to play with,” you said, smirking. I nearly fainted. The pin hovered over the left shoulder of the doll, and my hand flew up to my shoulder. I was shaking. “Hmm. I wonder what would happen? Would it... _ snap _ and break? Or would you just feel pain? Would it be dull, or sharp?”

 

I quickly whined, “Let’s not find out.”

  
  


**W is for water.**

I wasn’t used to having to look for you. It was usually so easy to find you. You were either healing the wounded, in the kitchen, sleeping, or, most commonly, with me. However, I couldn’t find you, and I was at a loss. Your family said they saw you walking off in the direction of the woods, but I found that highly unlikely at first; then, I realized that you might’ve been going to see if my mother had trapped herself somewhere.

 

Twigs and dry leaves snapped beneath my feet as I trekked through the brush. It wasn’t particularly thick, but one had to duck expertly if they wanted to come out without any thorns on them. After walking for a couple of minutes, I stopped to look around.

 

Nothing too interesting was in my vision, but I heard little splashes of liquid somewhere near me. I turned in each direction experimentally, trying to see the source. I followed the sound aimlessly, and soon noticed that the path I was traveling was well-worn. I kept following it, and soon came to a clearing. 

 

In it was a lake with clear water. It was rippling slightly; I assumed there were fish in it, until I noticed a pile of clothing near the edge of the lake.  _ Your _ clothing. However, I didn’t see you.

 

Before I could investigate the mystery, I whipped out my tablet and pen, ever-prepared. “Secluded waters,” I said aloud, writing my words down, “hidden from the public’s eye: a hidden treasure!”

 

My pen was still moving quickly across the paper, trying to catch up with my brain, when a deafening splash came from the center of the lake. Water licked my bare toes, and I wiggled them while checking to see if my tablet had remained dry.

 

After seeing that no intense damage was done, I pointed my gaze to the lake. You had surfaced, and your hair was sticking to your forehead. I could only see your shoulders and the top of your chest; your muscles were flexing, and I could see that you were treading water. 

 

You blindly swam to the edge of the lake and ambled out, and I cleared my throat. You yelped (quite adorably, I might add) and shook your hair out of your face. Once you saw it was me, you got even  _ more _ embarrassed. You turned around and wrapped your arms around your chest, shaking as the wind blew lightly. 

 

“M-Mitama?! How did you find me?!”

 

“Dwyer, seriously? Why are you hiding your torso from me? I know you’re a little  _ scrawny- _ no, wait, more like-”

 

“Just stop,” you deadpanned. “Why are you here?”

 

“I was looking for you,” I said. “I heard splashing when I was walking through the woods and came here. Is this your personal swimming hole?”

 

“Yeah. I come here every now and then. It’s refreshing. And I like to see how long I can hold my breath.” After looking tentatively over your shoulder, you turned around and quickly grabbed a towel from your pile of stuff, wrapping it around you. You weren’t wearing anything but boxers; I rolled my eyes. 

 

“Maybe I’ll get in with you, eventually. You can teach me how to swim.”

 

“I’d probably have to touch you…”

 

Coming from any other guy, it would sound like flirting; coming from you, however, it sounded like a friendly reminder and a gentle warning. I snapped, “I know that! I’m sure you know where I’ll allow you to put your hands. For now, at least.” You seemed to be getting antsy, so I followed up with, “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there. Show me how long you can hold your breath.”

  
  


**X is for xyloid.**

 

At first, I thought that your laziness would precede your need to nap uninterrupted, but it turned out I was wrong. 

 

Azama had sent me on a witch hunt, and the elusive witch I was trying to capture just happened to be you. I never thought I’d find you in a tree, so high up that looking at you made me dizzy. The branch was thick, but it wouldn’t be too hard for you to just stir slightly and then fall off.

 

I was unsure on whether I should climb up and risk startling you, or yell your name and...well, risk startling you.  _ Maybe I should just get Azama and then go back to bed _ , I thought; then, I realized that it would be a lot more catastrophic if  _ he _ came out.

 

Thank the gods, I didn’t have to make that decision; I saw you stretching your arms and yawning. You looked down and noticed me, but didn’t seem too thrilled or surprised. “Mmph. Why are you here?” You shouted down to me, cupping your hands.

 

I cupped mine and shouted back, “Azama told me to come get you.”

 

“Are people wounded?”

 

“No. He just wants you to stop sleeping. It’s three in the afternoon.”

 

You scowled and leaned back against the tree. I threw three rocks at the trunk of the tree, purposely missing, before you clambered down.

  
  
  


**Y is for yes.**

 

I wish I could make it sound poetic, but there’s no other way to say it: Dwyer, you’re a “yes” man. Even if you’re stubborn.

 

If I want your pillow, you’ll give it to me. If I want you to take me out for dinner, you’ll find the fanciest restaurant that money can buy. If I want to shove my veggies on your plate, you’ll eat them with no complaints. 

 

One day, I wondered if you never said no to me because you were afraid of me. I knew I could be pretty intimidating. That same day, as we stowed away in the kitchen for a quick hiding place, I said, “You know I’ll never hurt you, right? Unless you deserve it. But as of now, you don’t. And I’m pretty sure you won’t any time soon.”

 

You opened your eyes and looked at me in surprise, then closed them again. “...yeah. I know that. What’s with this, all of a sudden?”

 

“I thought that you might just comply with my demands out of fear. I don’t want you to see me as that kind of-”

 

“Sometimes,” you interrupted, “but mostly because I want to see you happy. If napping for half of the day every day made you happy, and I could let you, I would. I know your threats are fruitless.”

 

“Don’t get ahead of yourself. I’ll make good on my threats in no time.” I could hear you gulp. “Hmm. But I like that, though. You doing nice stuff just to make me happy. Say, Dwyer, I’d like to fly; go steal a pegasus from the stables.”

 

“Heh. Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

  
  


**Z is for zeal...and lackthereof.**

 

It was rare that everyone could have a moment to just relax and let go, but there we were. It was a congregation of the younger members of the army. Sophie, Shiro, Midori, Caeldori, Kana, and numerous others were all sparring at the fields; however, it was less of a chore and more of a playful romp. Some of them weren’t even sparring, but instead talking or snacking or goofing off. Everybody was there, energetic in the summer sun and having a good time; even my brother Shigure.

 

Well, almost everyone.

 

Beyond the fields was a hill that you and I frequented in good weather. I liked to stretch out when it wasn’t too hot, and you liked to write haikus or lay down with me. We were both sitting up at one particular moment, watching our peers socialize and romp.

 

“They look like they’re having fun. Hmm...seems a bit too high-energy, though,” you said, screwing your face up.

 

“And for what?” I scoffed in agreement. “Nah. It’s much better up here. So relaxing...even though it’s kind of hot.”

 

“You’ll find any reason to complain.” I looked over you, and I smiled tiredly. You had looked back down at your tablet, but you seemed to just be reading over what you wrote. Suddenly bold, I placed my arm around your shoulders, scooting closer. You looked up, and I just shrugged. “That’s it? I’m expecting a kiss!”

 

“No haiku?”

 

“I am at a loss,” you murmured. “No words can spill from my heart...when my lips crave yours.”

 

I quirked my lips in a smirk, and you snarled and pulled me into a kiss yourself, shutting your eyes tight. I did the same, allowing you to take the lead. Within seconds, we were both blushing profusely, and it wasn’t from the heat. 

 

We pulled away at the same time, panting lightly, and cupping each other’s cheeks. Satisfied, we both turned and looked down at the hill again, only to see that Shigure was blocking our view. I froze up, while you just said, “Hello, Shigure. What brings you to our watch-tower?”

 

You seemed calm,  _ way _ too calm. My brother seemed level-headed as always, but it was obvious that he was actually flustered. Clearing his throat, he said, “I thought it would be nice for my brother and I to sing a song for everyone. If he wants, of course.”

 

“You two go on and perform, then,” you said. “I’ll probably settle for a nap up here.”

 

“I’ll pass,” I said wryly, averting my eyes.

 

Shigure coughed awkwardly, but nodded his head. “Right. Have fun...doing whatever it is that you two do when you’re alone.”

 

He was gone as quickly as he came, and I fell back to the grass with my head in my hands. I heard you plop next to me. You hummed, “I thought you liked singing?”

 

“Not in front of crowds. Besides, we agreed. It’s much more peaceful up here. So calm, and...and...well, you’re here,” I said, adding the last part in rather quickly. I glanced over at you; you seemed pleased. “And if you sleep up here, then bugs will come up to you, or some other creatures. It’s my job to make sure that doesn’t happen, you know.”

 

“My sleepy guardian angel,” you murmured. “My lazy, sleepy, loser of a guardian angel.”

 

“I’m a loser?”

 

“Yeah. I mean, what kind of  _ winner _ sits at the top of a hill and lays back while the party is right beneath him?”

 

I scoffed. “You’re a loser, too, then?”

 

“Hmm. You’ve got me beat, Dwyer. Well, that’s alright. The losers’ circle is just as depressing as it is  _ relaxing _ and...everything that’s  _ not _ what’s going on down there.” You pointed in the direction of the congregation at the base of the hill. “So, let’s be losers, then...you and I.”

 

I didn’t reply; your voice was drifting, it felt like; I knew you were about to fall asleep right then and there. Within seconds, I heard even breathing and a light snore. I closed my eyes too, a smile creeping across my face.

 

I like the idea of being a loser with you, Mitama, but when I’m with you, away from all of the antics and the chaos, I can’t help being a winner.


End file.
